


A Very Crowley Christmas

by girl_next_door_writes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 03:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl_next_door_writes/pseuds/girl_next_door_writes
Summary: A collection of Christmas fics about my favourite Demon.Chapter 1 - Mistletoe and Devil TrapsDean suspects he may have found Crowley’s weakness so using an old Christmas tradition he tests his theory.





	1. Chapter 1

Dean couldn’t say for certain quite when he first began to suspect. It may have been when he realised the demon always seemed to appear when you really needed him, possibly it was the lingering looks in your direction when he thought nobody was looking, maybe it was his anger towards Dean anytime you got hurt. Whatever it had been, Dean was convinced that Crowley's interest in you was more than professional, he just wasn’t sure why.

Dean paced up and down in the library. It had been a while since he had sent the text message and he was beginning to worry that this plan of his wasn’t going to work.

“Contrary to what you seem to believe I do actually have better things to do than be here to answer whatever asinine question you have today.” The agitated tone of the demon had Dean turning, hiding a smirk behind a mask of irritation.

“You do know you’re not our first call right?” he cocked an eyebrow and stared down his ‘guest’.

“Oh, you flatter me squirrel.” Placing a hand over his chest his sarcastic tone only adding to his mocking.

“Shut up and get over here.” Dean huffed, turning his back as he could no longer contain his grin. Crowley rolled his eyes and began to cross the room only to hit what felt like an invisible wall. It didn’t take long for him to realise he had made a school-boy error and walked into the oldest trick in the book.

“What…what have you done squirrel?” he tone had a sharp edge to it, warning that once he got out there would quite possibly be a high price to pay for this. Looking down he shook his head at the run under his feet. “It’s under the rug right?”

“I’ve got a theory.” The eldest Winchester spun round and grinned gleefully at his prisoner.

“And trapping me like this is going to help you how?” Crowley crossed his arms and glared, awaiting what he knew would inevitably be some convoluted plot of the hunters own making.

“I think you have an unhealthy interest Emma and I want to know why.” Dean studied the demon whose face had gone blank. Circling the demon trap his eye intently on Crowley he could tell his instincts were correct on this one.

Raising an eyebrow the king of hell tilted his head and assessed the hunter currently watching him. “An ‘unhealthy interest’? Really?”

“I don’t want her getting hurt.”

“Neither do I.” he spat emphatically and in that moment he knew he had given himself away. The thought of you being hurt caused knots of tension to twist in his stomach. No, he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. There was a long pause as the two stared at each other angrily.

“So what are your intentions?” Dean’s serious tone broke the silence, folding his arms over his chest he raised an eyebrow.

“Who are you? Her father?” the demon sneered, turning away. This was not how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to have ‘feelings’, they only made you weak, got you hurt, landed you trapped in front of Dean Winchester.

“Crowley.” The warning was implicit in Deans voice and the demon sighed, his shoulders dropping.

“You have nothing to worry about Dean. She’s not interested. I’m just a demon.” His voice was filled with a sadness that Dean hadn’t thought him capable of. Then again he had never thought a demon could care so much for a human.

“That’s what I thought…” Dean began only to be interrupted by your voice in the hallway.

“You had a thought? Did it hurt?” You chuckle as you enter the room carrying two mugs of hot chocolate. A soft smile crossed your face when you saw the handsome demon and you quickly averted your eyes, instead concentrating on Dean. “Here you go, Crowley helping with a case?” you asked innocently as you placed the mugs down on the table, trying not to give away how your heart leaped as soon as you had seen him prowling in small circles in the middle of the room.

“Is there a reason Crowley is stood under mistletoe?” Sam enquired as he wandered into the room surveying the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“What?” Crowley and you asked in unison, your eyes shooting up to the ceiling just above his head.

“Looks like someone is after spreading some Christmas cheer.” Dean mused with a smirk, taking a sip of the hot beverage in his hand.”

“Don’t look at me!” Sam held his hands up in protest making it clear he wanted nothing at all to do with this situation as you glare in his direction. He was the only one who knew how you felt about the self-styled king of hell.

“Emma?” There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice that had you turning, your eyes meeting his and you were surprised to see softness and helplessness there.

“It is tradition.” You shrug, the corners of your mouth twitching up as you moved to stand in front of him. Looking up at the sprig of mistletoe now above both of you, your eyes trail down to meet his once more. “Merry Christmas Crowley.” You whisper as you take his face in your hands and gently press your soft lips to his in a lingering kiss.


	2. Baby It's Cold Outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley, firelight, a snowstorm, how could you possibly leave?

Standing at the floor to ceiling window of the incredibly expensive hotel suite the King of Hell had been making his base for the past few months, you watch the flurries of snow drifting down to the city below, the soft light from the various windows casting a seductive glow over the winter scene. A shiver ran through your body as you felt Crowley move to stand behind you. You had come to negotiate a truce in order to allow you and the Winchesters to focus on a bigger bad than the scotch drinking demon who had been proving to be a pain in your ass from the moment you’d met.

“I really can’t stay.” These were the same words you had been uttering for the past hour and yet here you still were. There was something about the sarcastic son of a bitch that just drew you to him and try as you might you just couldn’t shake the not so pg-13 thoughts about him that swam through your mind. 

“Come on kitten,” he hummed softly reaching out to run a hand over your shoulder. Breaking the contact you spin round and raise an eyebrow.

“It’s been fun, really, but I’ve got to go.” You insist, sounding a lot more definite than you felt. He took your hands in his and you felt the heat of his touch, the smell of scotch mixed with sulfur hit you as he moved closer.

“Your hands are like ice darling.” He ran his fingers over yours as his eyes searched yours and a smirk formed on his lips.

“Dean will be worrying, he will be pacing around the bunker waiting for me to come back. He knows where I am and if anything happens to me…” Your voice trailed off as the fireplace flamed brighter. The firelight reflecting on Crowley's face was so seductive, the predatory glint in his eye should have been a warning, you should have felt scared but it just had you swallowing hard. 

“Beautiful, there’s no hurry. Nothing bad will happen to you while you’re here with me. I wouldn’t allow a single hair on your head to come to any harm.” He tilted his head as he moved imperceptibly closer. You were suddenly aware of soft music playing as he handed you a glass of wine. Taking the proffered drink as if your body were on autopilot you wondered if he had actually hypnotised you as you couldn’t look away from those beautiful dark eyes of his.

You knew that if the boys could see you now you would never hear the end of it. You could almost hear the disapproval in Sam’s voice and you shook your head. It wasn’t like you to feel dizzy after two glasses of wine, you took a closer look at the liquid in your cup suspiciously. There was definitely something more going on here and for a moment you panic. “What have you put in this?” you indicate the glass and his brow furrows in momentary confusion.

“Nothing. Do you know how beautiful you look this evening? I can see why Moose and Squirrel sent you in to handle things, I find it surprisingly difficult to say no to you. Difficult but not impossible.” He reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear and you find your teeth grazing your lower lip, all too aware of the close proximity between the two of you. You could feel his warm breath on your lips, your noses almost touching and as he tilted his head your eyes fluttered closed and you felt his lips ghosting over your own. You shiver and it breaks the spell. Your eyes fly open and you step back. “I’ve really got to go. I need to leave right now.” There was an urgent tone to your voice and you strode across the room picking up your coat from the sofa and you were almost at the door. Almost. 

“It’s a blizzard out there kitten, why don’t you sit it out here in the warm?” His gruff voice had you turning to look over your shoulder. He wasn’t wrong, the storm outside was raging, the dark sky practically white with the tumbling torrent of snow.

“Or you could just snap me back to the bunker.” You shrug nonchalantly as if the way he was looking at you wasn’t making your stomach fill with butterflies and your knees weak.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” His voice was as smooth as the alcohol in his glass and he moved towards you as if stalking his prey. “Have you any idea what you do to me?” There was something in his tone that made you squeeze your thighs together, a slight desperation that made you want to give in. “Stay.” It wasn’t a question, more a command.

“I…I really can’t…” you stutter breathlessly.

“Stay.” His hands rested on your hips and you tried desperately to avoid looking him in the eye but you find your eyes instead resting on his lips. 

“But…” You were struggling to form a convincing argument and as his hands moved up your sides and his nose nuzzled against yours you could no longer resist. Your eyes fluttered closed and you felt his lips almost touching your own.

“Stay.” He whispered against your lips and you answered by closing the incredibly small gap between you and giving in to the kiss that had been building since you had stepped into that room.


	3. It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmassy moment between you and the King of Hell on a chilly winter night has the possibility of being a beautiful beginning.

For the past few weeks, there was a familiar excitement in the air that crept in at this time of year. There was just no escaping it no matter how hard he tried. Everywhere there was the twinkling of fairy lights, the smell of freshly baked goods mixed with mulled wine and a chill in the air. Pulling his scarf tighter, he picked up his pace a little as he wandered down the sidewalk towards the motel where he knew you were holed up. The sky had been overcast all day with the promise of snow and as the streetlights began to illuminate the street his eye was drawn to a brightly lit toy store window and the figure stood taking in every detail, wide-eyed with a smile on her face.

“Hello, darling.” The rough voice in your ear sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the cold evening. 

“Crowley.” You spoke warily, not even turning to look at him. Sure, you knew he was turning up with some information about the case, but you had expected him to be at the motel rather than just walking down the street.

“See something you like?” He smirked, invading your personal space further but not making direct contact.

“Just on a coffee run, thought I would appreciate the Christmas display.” You shrugged and turned to leave.

“Let me save you time.” He hummed and with a click of his fingers he presented you with a tray holding three large, warm coffee cups which you knew was exactly your order. “Let me accompany you back to the motel and then I can tell moose and squirrel what they need to know.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and fell into step beside you. 

The pair of you walked in a fairly companionable silence for a few blocks. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the demon’s company but you were never sure you could trust him, that his current intentions aligned with your own. It was nice to walk in the brisk air filled with the anticipation of the season. You loved this time of year but knowing the Winchesters weren’t the biggest fans of Christmas you kept your feelings under wraps which meant gazing at beautiful shop windows whilst on coffee runs was the closest you got to the holiday spirit.

“So, you looking out for a pair of hop-along boots and a pistol that shoots for the moron brothers?” His words broke your thoughts and you turned to him with raised eyebrows questioningly. In truth, he had been struggling to find something to say to you, anything at all to instigate a conversation and now he spoke he wished he’d had something better.

“I already have them a little something actually. Nothing as flash as… what was it? Hop along boots? What are those?”

“From the song.” He stated simply before starting to awkwardly but tunefully singing, “A pair of hop-along boots and a pistol that shoots is the wish of Barney and Ben. Dolls that will talk and will go for a walk is the hope of Janice and Jen. Mum and Dad can hardly wait for school to start again…” he trailed off and looked at his feet with a frown. He was the King of Hell for fucks sake and here he was walking along singing Christmas songs! 

“It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, everywhere you go…” you sang quietly and his eyebrows raised, a smirk appearing on his lips. “What?” You asked him with a small smile. “I thought we were having a Christmassy moment there.”

“A Christmas sing-a-long isn’t really my thing but… if you think the boys could wait for their coffee there’s a tree in the square…” He trailed off and looked at you with a hint of, was that hope in his eyes?

“Lead the way.” You smiled brightly, linking your arm through his. It certainly was beginning to look a lot like Christmas.


	4. I'll Be Home For Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the final moments of his life Crowley considers what is truly important to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so so sorry. This is so sad! I didn’t plan on it being sad but it is and I am sorry but it is only a short one so that’s a bonus.

There is said to be a moment, just a fraction of a second, in which your entire life flashes before your eyes before you shuffle off this mortal coil. He had lived a very long life and perhaps that’s why his last thought, the single moment in his entire life, that passed through his mind as everything that was Crowley dissipated into the ether, was of you.

The fire was crackling in the fireplace, the sticks previously used to toast marshmallows discarded on the stone hearth. The mantle was decorated with pinecones and two stocking hung side by side. The twinkling fairy lights on the tree to the right of the large stone fireplace enhanced the festive tone as they flashed green, yellow and blue on the oversized tree you had brought in from the woodland outside the cabin. He had smiled at the mismatched decorations adorning the tree, as if a three-year-old had just thrown a box of ornaments at it and his expression only grew warmer as he saw you sitting on the window seat, gazing out into the darkness as the snow flurried against the frosted window pane. The room was warm, and yet you were bundled up in an oversized jumper, a bob hat pulled down over your ears and a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hands. Your knees were pulled up and an old plaid blanket rested over them. Crowley had thought that this moment right here, this was one he would always remember. Each and every detail etched on his memory from the scent of the fire burning to the way the wooden floor slipped beneath his sock-clad feet. This snapshot of how his life could have been was so precious to him. True, he was a prisoner within the confines of this cabin and this was just your shift as jailor, but there was nobody he would rather be stuck with. He remembered Deans face when he had taken his shift at guarding the demon and seen you had decorated the place, the look of exasperation made him chuckle. You like Christmas and so Crowley found himself also relishing that time of year. The perfect Christmas would involve snow and mistletoe, a tree with gifts sprawling beneath, a log fire and you. He wanted you to have a perfect Christmas.

As the pain ripped through him he wished he could be home for Christmas, to be with you for all the Christmases to come. If only he had told you that perhaps he wouldn’t be standing here now. The very last thought that sparked through his consciousness was maybe he would be with you at Christmas, if only in your dreams.


	5. Fairytale Of New York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas time is magical and Crowley contemplates previous Christmas Eves since you wandered into his life.

It was Christmas Eve and the gruff, finely pressed King of Hell was slumped on his throne. One elbow rested on the arm of the chair, his hand cupping his cheek as he stared into the middle distance, a hint of a furrowed brow evident as he sighed deeply. He had no motivation, not even the glass of smooth amber liquid swirling in his left hand could lift his mood. Somewhere in the distant halls, he could hear someone singing and he rolled his eyes, not even mustering up the energy to click his fingers and crush whoever it was’ vocal chords. It was an old and haunting melody only mildly marred by the slight slur of the drunkenness of the vocalist. Closing his eyes, his thoughts meandered to you as they often did. It was this time of year he had first met you and from that moment he knew nothing would ever be the same for him. Times had been tough lately, he hadn’t been the person you made him want to be and he knew you were hurting, were thinking of leaving. Perhaps he could still turn it round. Maybe there was a better time ahead, this could be your year. 

The first time he laid eyes on you he had watched you negotiating the Christmas crowds for a few blocks, although he wasn’t quite sure why. There was just something he couldn’t quite put his finger on and as you threatened to turn the corner out of his sight he pushed off from the wall he had been leaning on and followed.

Your move to the big city had been difficult. Far from your family and feeling more than a little invisible in the large crowds and although you really loved this festive time of year this you couldn’t help feel a bit hollow. The wind felt as if it was blowing right through you as you pulled your coat a little tighter around you and a sudden gust blew your scarf from your shoulders. Turning to grasp at the garment your eyes met a hauntingly dark pair and all thoughts of your errant scarf were momentarily forgotten.

“I believe this belongs to you.” His voice had a gruff edge to it and you had smiled as he placed the scarf gently round your neck.

“Yeah… thanks.” Your voice made his heart flutter and a ghost of a frown crossed his face before he returned your smile. 

“Can I interest you in a hot chocolate? Compliments of the season and all.” He asked hopefully and when you nodded your consent he placed a hand on your lower back and led you into a nearby coffee shop. 

You had spent the next few hours talking and laughing, just connecting with another person. Neither of you realising just how much you needed that. The staff had begun to clear up, not so subtly indicating you should be on your way and Crowley scrabbled to find another activity to keep you in his company. When you suggested going to see the large Christmas tree a few blocks away he had jumped at the chance and took your hand as you left the warmth of the shop. 

As you hurried down the sidewalk a light flurry of snow began which just enhanced the Christmassy feeling in the air. A Salvation Army band was playing carols on the corner and a couple of inebriated businessmen were swaying as they sang along off key. You had laughed, and Crowley swore he had never heard a purer sound. Coming to a halt in front of the enormous tree which twinkled with enough lights to illuminate a small African village he glanced at you and the look of childlike wonder on your face as you gazed at the tree had him feeling things he had thought were so far beyond him now. Turning to him, the look on his face made you feel bold and you leaned into him. Your fingertips glided over his jaw and your nose grazed his as you tilted your head. His eyes fluttered closed as he felt your warm breath against his skin and his lips parted automatically as they met your own. His hands rested on your lower back as he melted into you, feeling elated and dizzy and very unlike himself. Pulling back from the kiss a little breathless you gave him a kiss drunk smile. “Merry Christmas Crowley.” You had whispered before he captured your lips with his own for another kiss.

Another year, another Christmas Eve and the years had not been as great as initially promised. A click of his fingers and you were both standing in his throne room. You covered in blood, some of which was your own, and shaken as he preened himself after a job well done. Crowley turned to you with a smile that quickly faltered and in that moment he knew he’d fucked up. Before you even opened your mouth, the realisation washed over him and he knew it was too late. 

“You alright darling?” The low growl in his voice was still evident although there was a sense of hesitance there too.

“Oh, so now my well being is important to you?” Your eyebrows were raised and your tone as icy as your stare. The only reason you were able to hold your composure was because you knew if you didn’t then the extent of your heartbreak would destroy you.

“Darling…” He tilted his head and took a step towards you causing you to back away from him, hands raised as you shook your head. You didn’t want him anywhere near you.

“Oh, no Crowley, you don’t get to do that.” There was a slight tremble in your voice and you blinked back the tears which were threatening to cloud your vision. 

“Crowley? You… you never call me…” His brow furrowed and panic began to set in as he realised just how bad this was, how much he had screwed up. To you ‘Crowley’ was the demon and he had always been so much more than that in your eyes, as a result, you had always referred to him by a myriad of cute names which he pretended to be irritated by, now he longed for you to use one of the ridiculous monikers.

“Well maybe pet names are for people I have a desire to see naked, or perhaps reserved for people who actually give a shit about me.” You spat at him, holding on to the anger, that anger would make you strong and get you through this.

“You think I don’t care? Seriously? You ungrateful…” His hands balled into fists as his face scrunched in rage. How dare you doubt his feelings for you, these feelings that made him weak.

“UNGRATEFUL!?!” You yelled, stepping towards him and squaring up, not something many people have survived. “You’re the one who just dared an angel to kill me because, and I quote, ‘she is nothing to me’.” The room fell silent as you stared at each other. The angel had ambushed you both, taking you hostage and threatening the self-styled King of Hell. The air of calm about your boyfriend had worried you but his words, the shrug of his shoulders as he turned his back on you with that animal's hands around your throat, it was all a little too believable.

“We both know I didn’t mean that.” Crowley murmured, breaking the stillness. He wanted to reach out and take you in his arms, wanted to reassure you that his feelings for you hadn’t changed, that he was still as enamored by you as that first Christmas.

“No, Crowley, I don’t.” Your eyes met his and he could see something deep within you was broken and that was entirely his doing. For once in his very long life, he was lost for words, he didn’t know how to fix this. Your head dropped and you turned to walk away. “Merry fucking Christmas Crowley.” You whispered as you left the room and he sank onto his throne, his head in his hands as his heart broke for you.

That was last year and things had not really improved over the past twelve months. Crowley was ripped from his reminiscing by the sound of the door to the throne room opening. His eyes ran over your frame as you sauntered in and casually made your way towards him and he just wanted to find a way to make everything as it had been that first Christmas. There was a look of boredom on your face which masked your frustration and he couldn’t help the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. You finally brought your gaze to his and the softness and love you saw there reminded you of the man who had caught your scarf on that cold street all those years ago. “I used to be someone who focused on power. I could have been the biggest bad to ever hit hell.” He mused and you shrugged.

“Anyone could say that. I could have been someone. I had dreams, ambitions of my own…” you moved a little closer to the throne and raised an eyebrow.

“I know,” Crowley whispered as he looked at you with pure adoration. He knew of your desires and always did his best to help you achieve them, putting your dreams before his own.

“I had plans of a life, a career, a family. None of which involved Hell or demons or… your mother.” You said pointedly which brought a bright smile to his lips. “I did not plan on falling in love with a complete idiot. Any advice? From one failed dreamer to another?” You sighed as you took the glass from his hand and took a large swig of whiskey.

“I’m not so good with advice… can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?” he smirked at you as you laughed, the sound was music to his ears. Pulling you to sit in his lap he wrapped his arms around your waist and placed a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“You are an idiot.” You said fondly as you caressed his cheek.

“I’m your idiot, and I will be for as long as you will have me.” He murmured against your lips and as you kissed him lovingly he knew that although the pair of you bickered almost constantly neither of you would be without the other.


	6. A Kind of White Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley doesn’t want you to compromise your Christmas so he does something uncharacteristically nice.

He wanted to do something special for you. He had no idea what or why, but he did know that if he could make you smile, even for a moment, that would warm his soul. Well, it would if he had one. Crowley wasn’t accustomed to random acts of kindness. His ‘favors’ were always calculated and designed to get him something in return, he just didn’t know what in this case. It had started a few weeks ago, although, if he was being honest it was something which had been building in him possibly since he met you. He had appeared in the bunker to find you in the kitchen singing Christmas carols softly to yourself as you decorated what looked suspiciously like a Christmas cake. “Really kitten? You’re still trying to sneak the festive season past the Grinch out there?” He raised an eyebrow and leaned on the door frame, his eyes roaming over you while your attention was still elsewhere.

“Dean said no decorations and no tree but surely even he can’t get huffy about deserts.” You mused as you concentrated on the icing you had been shaping into holly.

“You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.” He smirked. “A formidable festive force I’m sure not even squirrel could withstand.”

“Wow, that sounded like it was very nearly a compliment.” You looked up and smiled gently. “I just figured that if I have to compromise then so should he.”

“Compromise?” He pushed himself off the doorframe and came to stand beside you.

“Yeah. I don’t get my Christmas filled with sleigh bells and the smell of pine wafting through the halls but he has to give in to something right?” You looked at the demon with a hint of sadness and he felt… something. A frown appeared on his face and he shook his head softly which you took to be your answer and sighed. That was the moment. That was the conversation where Crowley knew he wanted to do… something… for you, he just didn’t know what.

Sitting in his throne room that evening his mind was still racing and he let out a sigh of frustration. He didn’t know why he wanted to do something ‘nice’ for you and because he didn’t know what his end goal was that made him unsure as to what action he should take. Surely the point wasn’t just to make you smile, for you to feel happy because of something he had done for you. No. He must have some deeper, hidden motive that was so deep and hidden that even he wasn’t sure what it was. As he tapped his fingers on the arm of the throne he heard someone wandering down the hallway humming to themselves. Crowley was about to go off on an angry tirade when he realised he recognised the tune and immediately an idea occurred to him. It would work. You would smile and he… well, for once he might be the good guy. Getting to his feet a grin spread across his face as he smoothed down his suit. Time to get to work.

You woke the following morning to the sound of an incredibly angry Dean Winchester yelling your name repeatedly. Rolling out of bed you wrapped your dressing gown around you, threw on your slippers and shuffled towards the yelling wondering what the hell you’d done this time. 

As you turned the corner to the war room your bleary eyes widened at the sight. The entire place was decked out to the nines with beautifully coordinated Christmas decorations. In the corner stood a magnificent tree with twinkling lights, tinsel and an array of baubles, beneath was a small train on a track that appeared to be playing ‘Santa Clause is Coming To Town’. Moving further into the room you span slowly in a circle, trying to take it all in. There was holly and ivy and mistletoe combined with sparkly things and glittery things and… well, it looked like Christmas had kinda vomited over the room. Eventually, your eyes fell on Dean who was stood in front of Sam with a face like thunder, his arms folded across his chest. “What the hell is this?” he demanded.

“Erm… Christmas?” you said hesitantly, still trying to take it all in.

“I thought we agreed…” He began only to be cut off by the familiar low tones of the King of Hell himself.

“She may have agreed to your ridiculous terms but I didn’t.” He turned to you with a hint of a smile on his lips. “What do you think darling? Did I hit the right festive note?”

“Short of making it snow I don’t think you can make it more like Christmas in here.” Sam shrugged earning a sleep laced giggle from you and a glare from Dean.

“Funny you should say that moose.” Crowley smirked.

“You… Is it snowing?” the excitement in your voice sent a thrill through him and he simply gave a nonchalant shrug. You and Sam rushed to the door of the bunker and as you opened it a flurry of white powder was indeed falling from the sky. The elated squeal you emitted brought a genuine smile to the demons face. There was no need to tell you it wasn’t technically snow, more like ashes of some of the troublemakers he’d had ‘taken care of’ in hell the previous evening. Watching you, your eyes all bright and the biggest smile on your face, one he knew he was responsible for, made Crowley feel warm and fuzzy in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

“So,” Dean huffed as he narrowed his eyes at Crowley. “you want something from her or is this all just to piss me off?”

“Consider it a gift, you never know Dean, you might just like it.” He smirked as he produced a plate of mince pies and offered him one.


	7. Blue Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas is a time for family and loved ones and there is only one person Crowley really wants to spend his day with but that’s not gonna happen.

He never used to celebrate this ridiculous time of year. In fact, now he came to think about it, he stopped celebrating any arbitrary time of year until you came along. Somehow you had him under some sort of spell, that was the only explanation that made any sense to him. He found himself counting birthdays, Easter, Halloween and the entire season from Thanks-Giving to New Years and now…

It was his own fault really. He was the one to pull away, to stop calling, to not even show when you summoned him. Crowley had even started screening the Winchesters on the off chance you were using one of their phones. As soon as he realised he had formed some sort of attachment to you he had panicked, yet another thing he didn’t really do until he met you. He was a demon, the King of Hell no doubt, he couldn’t have a weakness and you, your safety, your happiness, that was far too important to him. He had no other option, he had to cut you out of his life.

Sitting on his throne his eyes fell on the decorations of red on a green Christmas tree in the corner, seems old habits die hard. It wasn’t the same though if you weren’t there with him. This time last year you had both been in this very room hanging baubles from those branches. His lips curled up into a soft smile at the memory. He had been so reluctant, had huffed and frowned and had been met with giggles, bright smiles, and even a wink. He had been powerless to resist so he had brought you here and together you had spent hours making things sparkle and shine. There had been music and dancing and conversation. There had been a moment, just a fraction of a second, where he had almost…

Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and returned to the cold, dark room he was sitting in just in time to see the door open and his mother sweep into the room. She raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the pitiful tree and continued towards him, a bright but entirely fake smile on her lips. “Fergus my darling boy.” She threw her arms wide and he huffed another sigh.

“Mother.” He snarled. Why could she not just leave him to his misery?

“Are you still pining over that silly snip of a girl? Really, it is unbecoming of the King of Hell to be wallowing in self-pity.” Rowena rolled her eyes and glared at her son. She hated to admit it, but he was far more productive when he had been…happy. Her nose scrunched in disgust at just the thought of the word in relation to her son. “You do realise she is at that bunker with those boys, all decked out and ready to celebrate while you’re sitting here staring at a glorified shrubbery.”

“Do you EVER shut up?” he snarled. He knew she was right, that you would be enjoying the season, as always. It wouldn’t matter to you that he wasn’t there, he wouldn’t be missed at all. That thought made his chest ache. 

“Either get over her or claim her, just stop mopping and take charge.” She glared at him before clicking her tongue and flouncing out in search of better entertainment. 

The lights twinkled softly on the tree, dancing over the red baubles hanging haphazardly over its branches. He did need to take charge, his mother was right though he’d be damned if he would admit that. Wandering over to the tree he raised his hand, preparing to click the stupid thing out of existence, only something stopped him. This was something you had created together, he couldn’t just get rid of it, at least not yet. With a click of his fingers, the decorations turned blue and he nodded to himself. Blue suited his current mood a lot better, maybe he should redecorate the rest of Hell too to match, that would provide a brief distraction. He caught his reflection in one of the orbs and looked into his own eyes. “Enough now.” He whispered to himself and with another click of his fingers the tree disappeared. “That’s enough.”


	8. Let It Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a cabin in the woods sits a frustrated demon in hiding but when the weather prevents his guard from leaving his frustration begins to give way to something else.

The idea of dropping off the radar had been appealing at first. The daily grind of running Hell had been getting to him but now… fuck it was boring spending all day, every day in this cabin with the walls closing in on him. At least his guard dog this evening was easy on the eye and a sight less irritating than Moose or Squirrel. Sitting in the armchair by the fire swirling his whiskey he heard her footsteps and a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. Yeah, things could be worse. 

The harsh wind slammed a barrage of snowflakes against the dark window pane and you let out a sigh. The storm hadn’t been due to hit this early and you weren’t sure being trapped here with the smooth-talking, suave demon was the best idea. Not when you’d been desperately trying to hide your increasingly confusing feeling for him. Folding your arms over your chest you hugged yourself tight as you frowned, your eyes fixed on the swirling snowflakes. “Staring at it isn’t going to make it stop darling.” The low rumble of his voice had you turning your head to look at him, the firelight highlighting his features beautifully. The fire crackled, it’s heat calling to you. With another sigh you glanced out of the window one final time before crossing to sit on the sofa opposite Crowley, scooting closer to the hearth.

He watched you out of the corner of his eye, trying to gauge your mood. There was an air of frustration about you but there was something more he couldn’t quite put his finger on and that intrigued him. Raising from his chair he looked at you appraisingly. “It doesn’t show signs of stopping so maybe you should get comfortable, you might be here a while.” With a click of his perfectly manicured fingers, a mug of steaming hot chocolate appeared in his hand and he offered it to you.

It took you half a second to accept but once you felt the heat of the mug in your hands you couldn’t help the soft smile that appeared on your face and he sat on the sofa next to you. The lamp on the side table sputtered and went out leaving the pair of you in the low light of the flickering flames. Your senses were on high alert as your eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of danger. “Relax darling, just a blown bulb.” Your body tensed as you felt Crowley’s hand rest on your knee and you looked at him in surprise, swallowing thickly.

The way you looked at him made him question his action. He wasn’t sure why he had reached out to you, but he hadn’t been expecting surprise from you. Anger maybe, disgust perhaps and he realised he hadn’t actually moved his hand and you hadn’t punched him in the face. His eyes searched your face and he raised an eyebrow. “There’s just you and me here.”

There was something in his words which could have been considered a threat but your heart was pounding so fast you weren’t sure if it was due to the sudden darkness or your close proximity to the King of Hell. Either way, you couldn’t help your gaze falling onto his lips. “Until Dean gets here to take over.” You murmured, dragging your eyes back up to meet his. That was a mistake. Conflicting emotions fought within you, part of you wanting to give in to the desire to push him down on the sofa and act out some of those hot and steamy fantasies which had become more frequent of late. Another part of you knew that would be bad, very bad. That way led to heartbreak and possible death.

“Squirrel isn’t getting through that snow, kitten.” He said softly, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering against your cheek. Usually, Crowley just took whatever he wanted but with you, there was something more. Something held him back and he realised that he wanted you to want him, genuinely want him. True, he could probably take you, cut a deal, use a spell, but he found he needed you, for this, to be real. His eyes were drawn to your lips as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth.

You knew he had spoken the truth. The chances of Dean getting Baby along the dirt road to the cabin were virtually nil and the way Crowley was looking at you, you couldn’t honestly say being stuck here wasn’t appealing. The demon was obviously thinking about something and you watched a myriad of emotions cross his face. There was surprise, confusion, definitely lust but the soft and tender look on his face right now coupled with the hint of insecurity in his eyes was too much to resist. “So… just you and me.” You tilted your head slightly and leaned into him a little. 

His eyes searched yours, looking for even a hint of uncertainty there. Finding none he gently cupped your face and closed the gap between you, his lips carefully caressing yours in a sweet and tentative kiss. Rather than any resistance, he felt you respond to his touch before pulling back rather suddenly. He blinked rapidly, his brow furrowed with confusion. “I… I’m sorry…” he began only to be cut off by your laughter.

“I just needed to put my hot chocolate down before I tipped it over you.” You explained with a shy smile as you placed the mug on the coffee table. “Now, where were we?”

He held you tight, the warmth radiating from him and a low growl escaping him as he sank once more into your kiss. His fingers ran through your hair and if he wasn’t so lost in you he would have marveled at how much softer it was than he had been imagining. Leaning back he pulled you on top of him, not breaking the kiss for a single second. 

Dean shook the snow from his shoulders and stomped his boots on the doorstep before opening the door. He froze in the doorway, shock, horror, disgust all rolling over him leaving him momentarily speechless at the scene before him. A million questions ran through his mind but he couldn’t take his eyes off you sleeping, quite obviously naked, covered in a blanket, part sprawled over Crowley on the sheepskin rug before the fire which was slowly dying. The demon smirked at the hunter from where he lay, “Your services are not required here Squirrel. Stay or go but either way, close the damned door.” His voice was low and a genuine smile appeared on his face as he glanced down at your contented sleeping form. Dropping off the radar had definitely been a good decision.


	9. Christmas Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Break ups are always difficult but as Crowley contemplates recent events maybe there could be a glimmer of Christmas hope.

This one was bad. He knew as soon as slammed the door that this argument was worse than the others you’d been having over the past few months. Rubbing his temple he clicked his fingers and found himself sat at a bar, a cocktail in his hand. The image of your tear stained face crossed his mind and the wave of self-loathing and guilt hit, almost drowning him as he remembered his parting words to you. He didn’t even know what this fight was about but he did know he had crossed a line, said some things that he couldn’t take back including the accusation that you expected too much from him, that maybe you should find yourself a human boyfriend for your hearts and flowers needs. Staring at the deep red liquid in his glass he formulated a plan, not his finest but a plan never the less. He was going to drink until his blood was 90% alcohol, until the poison flowed through his blood making him forget all about you and this pain in his chest.

Several hours and even more drinks later the demon king found himself wandering down city streets, expensive shops on either side softly lit with twinkling lights inviting late night shoppers to browse their wares, to find the perfect gift. Perhaps if he could find something, a present that could express what he was feeling far more articulately than his words ever could, then just maybe he could earn your forgiveness. Each window he gazed into seemed to be lacking, nothing caught his attention as good enough and the feeling of loss settled in his stomach. You were gone, he had lost you forever. The chill of the winter air made him shiver and he glanced up at the night sky. Although it was only a few more days until December 25th, it didn’t really feel like Christmas at all and Crowley wondered if it would snow. He knew you would like that, a blanket of white over the world and the general feeling of excitement of this time of year. That thought made his heartache, knowing you could be so happy and yet he just seemed to make you miserable.

Some drunken singing caught his ear but he kept his eyes on the window as if the flickering fairy lights floating there could give him some hope, some solution to his heartache. The drunk was obviously feeling forlorn as his tune turned melancholic with talk of some lost love that resonated with the demon. Although it was completely out of tune the words ‘I always loved you darling and I always will’ drifted through the air and Crowley closed his eyes, swallowing thickly. Perhaps this was a good thing. His feelings, his attachment to you made him weak. He was a freaking demon, the KING OF HELL! He had no soul, no emotional connections. He liked to cause pain and suffering and… the image of you crying came to the forefront of his mind and his shoulders slumped. 

Your feet took you through the streets, trying to clear your head. Pulling your scarf a little tighter you replayed the recent argument in your mind again for the millionth time. It had been a stupid fight, one borne of your own insecurity compounded by his inability to actually communicate how he felt about you. Getting involved with the King of Hell was never going to be smooth sailing, you knew that going in, but would it kill him to actually admit he felt something for you? The Christmas lights lit up the street, bringing a hint of a smile to your lips as you followed their path with your eyes. Pausing mid-step your attention was drawn to the far street corner where a familiar figure stood staring into a shop window with a dejected look on his face. Your heart faltered, and you automatically hurried towards him, argument forgotten as you felt the urge to hold him, to make whatever was troubling him disappear. 

Crowley frowned and let out a sigh, turning from the window knowing there was nothing there that would help. He had lost you and that realisation weighed heavy on his heart. There was so much he should have said, he should have told you just how important you are to him. Having you in his life just seemed to make everything better, you made him better. What he needed was a Christmas miracle, something that would bring you back to him and then he could tell you, he could finally let you know… His body stiffened as his eyes landed on the figure hurrying down the sidewalk towards him and his breathing stuttered. 

You stopped a few steps away from him, nervous, unsure if he had forgiven your earlier words. Crowley closed the space between you, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, a smile tugging at his lips as you leaned into his touch. His eyes searched yours, looking for forgiveness, for a sign that you could still want him. Pulling you closer to him he could see you searching his face for the exact same thing. “I am so sorry darling.” He murmured in your ear causing you to grip him tighter. “I love you so much.” Pulling back you looked up at him in surprise, a smile of disbelief on your lips. “I. Love. You.” He stated simply before kissing you deeply, a kiss filled with all the emotions he had ever held back from you. As you lost yourselves in each other the first flakes of snow began to drift down through the beautiful Christmas lights that continued to twinkle on.


	10. A Merry Little Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sitting in the bunker on Christmas day Crowley begins to feel a little sentimental, not that he would ever admit that.

It had been a long day. Not one of those days that stretched on forever that you wished would end but a day filled with never-ending food, an always half full glass of alcohol and a general uneasy truce from bickering. For one day, just one, it was like none of them had a care in the world.

Sitting in an armchair by the fire Crowley swirled his glass of whiskey and surveyed the room. Sam and Dean were passed out on the sofa, Dean lightly snoring as his head lolled on his younger brother’s shoulder. Sam’s gangly limbs sprawled out, his leg occasionally twitching in his sleep causing him to kick Castiel in the back as he sat on the floor, staring a little perplexed at the jigsaw pieces spread over the coffee table. Gabriel was on his eleventh mince pie of the hour as he leaned against the table watching Chuck scroll through Netflix in search of a good Christmas movie. This was all down to you. Oh there had been a definite ‘no’ from more than one party gathered here but you had been persistent, and as Rowena entered with a tray of mugs filled with hot chocolate Crowley couldn’t prevent the soft smile that tugged at his lips as his eyes landed on you, following his mother into the room. 

When he had first met you he had flirted with you, mostly to piss off Moose and Squirrel, but he had been delighted when you had reciprocated. It had become a kind of game, both of you knowing how much it irritated your companions. The trouble was, somewhere along the way, he had begun to want you to mean it. It was silly, he knew that this was just an easy banter between the two of you but when you looked at him, sent him that knowing smirk or the rare wink, it sent a thrill through him that he had begun to crave.

His eyes fell once more on the Winchesters and he knew that flirting with you was off the table with your audience, so he was surprised, to say the least when you placed yourself in his lap and took his glass from his hand. Taking a liberal swig of his whiskey he watched you swallow with an almost hypnotized look on his face. It was true you had been this close to him before but never so… intimate. Placing your head on his shoulder his body tensed for a moment before the realisation of how well you fit there washed over him and he looked down at you with a soft smile. “You planning on finishing that or…” he left the words hanging between you as you turned your head and he realised how little space there was between you both. Slowly you raised the glass to your lips again, your eyes on his almost challengingly as you took another sip of the amber liquid.

Rowena settled in a chair next to Chuck and glanced over at her son. “You would think after all this time on this earth he would know what he was doing when it came to women.” She sighed. Chuck looked up from the screen with a furrowed brow and followed her gaze before a smile spread across his face. 

“The path of true love and all that.” He said softly, his eyes returning to the screen. “I have narrowed it down to…”

“It’s A Wonderful Life.” Castiel asserted from his position on the floor and Chuck shook his head.

“Okay. It’s A Wonderful Life it is.” Chuck shrugged and moved to the sofa, Gabe following and taking a seat on the floor next to his brother, clicking his fingers a fresh plate of mince pies appearing on top of Castiel's jigsaw. 

The scene unfolding in front of the tv was ignored by Crowley as he found himself lost in your eyes. You leaned into him and his eyes crossed a little as he tried to keep focus on you. “Thanks for the drink.” You purred before shifting and getting to your feet. The sudden movement caused him to startle and look up at your retreating form in confusion. He watched you cross the room and refill the glass before returning to the gathering and leaning on the back of the sofa as Chuck started the film.

Crowley shifted in his seat, trying to shake the feeling that it was now too big, there was too much room without you there too. His face settled into a scowl as he stared at the screen, mentally chastising himself for giving into the idea that perhaps… huffing out a sigh he tried to focus on the film. 

His restless movements caught your attention and you tilted your head, glancing over at the demon who seemingly had something on his mind. You longed to go sit with him again, to smooth out the lines on his forehead but that wasn’t the deal, that wasn’t how the pair of you interacted and you were reluctant to cross a line. You were brought out of your thoughts by Rowena leaning down and whispering in your ear, “Will ya just go and put the poor lad out of his misery.” Turning you look at her in confusion only for her to nod towards her son.

Crowley was aware of your movement in his peripheral vision and his body relaxed as you settled once more in his lap. Your eyes were on the screen but he could see the hint of a smirk playing on your lips as you raised the glass to take a sip of whiskey. Reaching out he took the drink from you and downed it, the amber liquid burning his throat pleasantly. Handing you the empty glass he grinned at your affronted expression. “It’s like that is it? Well, I want my taste of whiskey so…” your lips met his and it took him a moment to register what was happening. Once he did he took control, his fingers threading through your hair, his tongue sweeping over your lips hungrily to claim you. He let out a low whine as you pulled back slightly and you rested your forehead against his. “Merry Christmas Crowley.” You said breathily. 

“It certainly is.” He growled before pulling you in for another kiss.


	11. All I Want For Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little interference from Rowena leads to some interesting discoveries but can a demon really have ‘feelings’ for a mere mortal?

It was a curious thing when it happened, just an ordinary day really. Well, as ordinary as you can get when you’re the King of Hell. Crowley had been sitting on his throne, half listening to some petty dispute amongst the lower level demons about who was responsible for a recent batch of souls several of them were claiming credit for. His fingers tapped absentmindedly on the arm of his chair and his mind drifted. This was not unusual for him, the creation of new tortures and devious distractions were how he survived the tedium of ‘management’ but today his train of thought brought him, surprisingly, to you. He had begun, innocently enough, with the memory of a recent hunt he had tagged along on but instead of his keen mind focusing on the pain and the way the blood had spirted from the vampire's neck, cascading in crimson spirals through the air and spattering the far wall like a Jackson Pollock, as it usually would, his reminiscence was more focused on the curve of your ass in those jeans, the fearless look in your eye as you took on two of the larger vamps by yourself. The way the corner of your mouth quirked up as their bodies fell to the floor, completely unphased by the massive amount of blood now staining your clothes and dripping down your face. You had exuded raw power and passion and Crowley found himself shifting in his seat with a frown. He had no idea he had committed that to memory and shook his head, trying to concentrate on the ongoing whining before him but it seemed thoughts of you were far too alluring. By the time Crowley gave up and ordered his minions to leave him the King was beginning to worry that he had been hit by some sort of spell. With this in mind, he headed down the corridor and stormed into the room where he already knew his mother was pouring over her books.

“What the bloody hell have you been up to now you harpy?” he growled, now certain this desire to see you had something to do with magic. 

“And hello to you too Fergus. Is that really any way to greet your mother?” Rowena looked up from the bowl she was stirring and tilted her head before a sly smile spread across her face. “Oh, what has got your knickers all in a knot? Must be interesting if you think I have a hand in it.”

“What have you been doing?” Crowley asked again, his eyes narrowed and a hard edge to his voice. 

“Oh, nothing much, just a little something for those hunter friends of yours. You know me, always happy to help.” She rolled her eyes theatrically and returned her attention to the potion before her.

“And what sort of ‘help’ have you been offering?” he sidled closer, his body tense as his eyes ran over the bench, taking in what ingredients she was using.

“Well, I gifted that little slip of a thing a trinket to help her… focus and now I have a Christmas gift brewing for the tall one which will help with memory retention in a way.” Her voice lilted whimsically as she spoke and Crowley knew her version of events would only have a glancing acquaintance with the truth.

“What do you mean by trinket? What did you do to her?” Rowena looked up in surprise before her expression changed to elation and she clapped her hands as she laughed.

“Oh this is too perfect!” she chuckled. “I had no idea but… oh, how delicious!”

“MOTHER!” Crowley boomed gaining her attention once more, he was done with games and he wanted a straight answer.

“I think you should go talk to her. Ask the lass what she wants for Christmas.” Rowena smirked before dissolving into giggles again. With a low growl, Crowley stalked out of the room, even more infuriated than when he had entered. Fine, she wanted him to go and talk to you then that’s what he would do. At least he knew you would give him a straight answer.

Sitting in the library your eyes fell on the silver bracelet on your wrist you smiled to yourself. The gift wrapped box had appeared in your room and as neither Winchester nor Castiel seemed to know anything about it you had concluded that it must have been the dashing demon who had caught your attention. Running your finger over the metal your thoughts were interrupted by a familiar gruff voice that sent a thrill through your entire being. “Now where did you pick that up?” he enquired and you turned in your seat, a soft smile on your lips.

“Well, ‘someone’ left it in my room all wrapped up nice and I figured they might be trying to tell me something.” Getting to your feet you wandered slowly over to him, stopping just short of running your hand down his arm.

“You should know better than to accept gifts from mysterious givers. This bracelet,” he took your arm and raised it as he looked at the jewelry. ‘for example, was given to you by my mother and I think we both know she didn’t have your best interests at heart.” You pulled your arm back and hurriedly removed the offending article, dropping it to the floor as if it was on fire. Crowley bent to pick it up, his eyes narrowing as he read the inscription. Looking from the bracelet to you his mind raced as he put all the pieces together. “This bracelet is supposed to draw your deepest desire to you.” your eyes widened and you held your breath. Surely he couldn’t know what you desired, what you truly want. “Is there something you want to tell me kitten?” His low voice vibrated through you as his eyes met yours and for a fraction of a second you could almost believe he felt the same way, but no sooner had that idea flickered in your mind you squashed it. 

“I’m sorry if I have caused you any inconvenience. Thank you for stepping in, the thing I really desire is something I can never have and if this magic gave it to me, if only for a moment, the heartbreak of having to give it up would be too much for me to take. Take that back to your mother and tell her I politely decline her kind gift. I’ll also talk to Cas about security round here.” You nodded at him and turned to leave. And that was that.

Or that should have been that, only a few weeks later and Crowley was once again sitting on his throne, yet again dealing with petulant underlings and his mind still full of you. The way you smiled, the way you smelled, the cadence of your voice. Slamming his fist down on the arm of his chair he got to his feet and glared at the demons before him. “I don’t care how you sort it just bloody do it because if I have to deal with your whining a moment longer I am going to cut out your tongues and feed them to my hounds.” He growled sending them scuttering out of the door leaving only Rowena leaning against a pillar, watching her son cautiously. 

“I take it you asked her.” She stated softly earning her a confused look. “The girl, you asked her what she wanted for Christmas.” Rowena clarified and Crowley scoffed.

“She doesn’t need your help and neither do I.” He sneered at his mother, not wanting to show her any sign of weakness she could exploit.

“Have it your way but faint heart never won fair lady.” She sing-songed as she turned to flounce out of the room. Crowley watched her go and frowned. Although it had been magic that had alerted him to your feelings he knew his own fondness for you was no trick. Now he only had to convince you, had to let you know that what you desired was indeed within reach.

Christmas morning and you awoke early, the excitement of the holiday still had you feeling like a child. Heading into the kitchen you made yourself a hot chocolate and was just about to head to the library when Sam appeared in the doorway looking deliciously disheveled. “You’re gonna want to come see this.” His voice was thick with sleep and you quirked an eyebrow at him before following.

The first thing that struck you was Dean asleep on the sofa, the second was the MOUNTAIN of gifts beneath the tree. Looking at Sam your raised an eyebrow. “They’ve all got your name on them.” He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What that actual fu…”

“Merry Christmas kitten.” Your body tensed at the sound of his voice and you turned slowly, your eyes roaming from his shoes up his body before landing on his bright smile.

“Thought you told me not to accept mysterious gifts.” You said cautiously, wondering what game this was and what exactly the rules were. 

“These aren’t mysterious, they are merely a token of my affection and before you say anything Moose I do indeed have a great deal of affection for this woman and I believe my actions speak for themselves.” Moving closer he didn’t take his eyes off you, raising his hand he brushed the hair from your face.

“I don’t want your gifts, Crowley.” Your voice was soft but it didn’t prevent the hurt that flashed in his eyes and he pulled back until you took his hand and smiled shyly. “Crowley, all I want for Christmas is…” your words were cut off as his lips met your own, causing you to gasp before melting into his kiss.


End file.
